There are moments in the life of a state when gradual reform is no longer enough. In 2025, Kano reached such a point with its schools. Years of underinvestment, overcrowded classrooms and collapsing infrastructure had hardened into a crisis that could no longer be dismissed as “normal Nigerian challenges.”

Declaring a State of Emergency on Education was therefore not a slogan; it was an admission that the old way had failed and that a different kind of response was required.

The government led by Governor Abba Yusuf  devoted almost a third of the 2025 budget to education and, more importantly, turned that commitment into visible change.

The first signal of seriousness was physical. Across the state, classroom construction and renovation took off, from basic schools in rural communities to secondary schools in the metropolis. The goal was simple but radical: every child should learn in a safe, decent environment, not in crumbling blocks with leaking roofs and crowded benches.

Fresh walls, repaired ceilings and better ventilation are not glamorous, but they mark the line between a child who merely endures school and one who can actually concentrate.

Alongside this came a reaffirmation of a core promise: free education at primary and secondary levels. In an era of inflation and shrinking household incomes, sustaining this policy – not just announcing it – mattered.

The administration kept school fees off the table and improved boarding students’ feeding, recognising that a hungry child cannot learn, however inspiring the teacher may be.

The “emergency” lens also extended beyond basic schooling. A modern economy demands not only literate citizens but also a pipeline of skilled graduates. The government picked up critical fees for students in tertiary institutions so that the inability to pay would not be the reason a young person dropped out.

It revitalised scholarship programmes and cleared longstanding tuition debts for Kano students who had completed their degrees abroad – quiet corrections to years of broken promises and interrupted dreams.

At home, it reduced the cost of higher education through a 50 per cent tuition waiver at state-owned tertiary institutions, created a new polytechnic to expand technical and vocational options, and invested in lecture rooms, laboratories, and hostels – a recognition that a knowledge economy cannot grow on decaying campuses.

The emergency also forced a reckoning with quality, not just access. To strengthen performance in core subjects, especially mathematics and science, the state recruited additional qualified teachers and employed watchmen to safeguard schools – a reminder that learning depends on both competent instruction and a secure environment.

Technical and vocational education received renewed attention through revived skill-acquisition centres, giving young people practical competencies that translate directly into livelihoods rather than certificates alone.

Special focus was placed on the girl-child and inclusive schooling. A new Government Girls’ Secondary School at Dangwauro and upgrades to existing girls’ colleges expanded safe spaces for girls’ learning. The renovation of French- and Chinese-language colleges signalled an ambition to produce multilingual, globally aware graduates who can navigate both local realities and international opportunities.

Transition exams – notorious bottlenecks in Nigeria’s education journey – were treated as a public duty. The state cleared outstanding NECO fees, unlocked matching grants by paying the basic education counterpart funds, and procured and distributed UTME/JAMB forms, along with screening and coaching, to thousands of candidates.

For many families, these interventions meant the difference between a child who completes school with recognised qualifications and one who stops short at the final hurdle.

Measuring the impact of an education emergency is never straightforward; learning outcomes lag investment. Yet Kano’s early signals have been strong. Within a short period, the state rose to the top of the 2025 NECO performance chart – a powerful confirmation that targeted funding and closer supervision can shift results and rekindle confidence among parents and students.

The 2026 budget suggests this was not a one-year surge but the start of a deeper realignment. Education again receives about 30 per cent of total spending – more than any other sector.

The State of Emergency on Education is maturing into a philosophy of human-capital-first governance: the conviction that roads, markets and factories will only be as strong as the minds that design, manage and use them.

Still, declaring an emergency and funding it generously is the beginning, not the end, of reform. The challenge now is to move from projects to systems: from isolated renovations to routine maintenance that keeps schools from sliding back into decay; from recruitment drives to continuous teacher development; from paying exam fees to building an assessment culture that uses data to spot learning gaps early; from scholarships for a few to curriculum and pedagogy reforms that lift the baseline for every child.

There is also the question of sustainability. A 30–31 per cent share of the budget is an expression of priorities, but also a test of discipline. As other sectors clamour for resources, will Kano continue to protect education, or will old habits return? The answer will depend on whether citizens–parents, teachers, communities, religious and traditional institutions–internalise this emergency as their own cause, not merely the governor’s project.

What is at stake goes far beyond exam scores. For Kano, education is the line between a demographic dividend and a demographic time bomb. Free schooling, renovated classrooms, scholarships, skill centres and new girls’ schools are all pieces of a larger bet: that a generation properly educated will be better equipped to manage the pressures of urbanisation, unemployment, climate stress and social tension than a generation left to fend for itself.

“Kano Emergency on Education” is therefore not just a phrase in a budget speech; it is a statement by Gov. Abba Kabir Yusuf about the kind of future the state is willing to fight for.
If the momentum is sustained – if the emergency hardens into a culture of excellence rather than fading as a campaign – then a decade from now, the story of Kano may be told not only through its roads and markets, but through its classrooms: places where a crisis once declared was slowly, deliberately, overcome.
Peterside, a public affairs analyst, wrote from Abuja.